


Nice Guys Finish Last

by unprecedntedsmile



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unprecedntedsmile/pseuds/unprecedntedsmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis likes bad boy's and Harry tries too hard to be everything Louis could want</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice Guys Finish Last

**Author's Note:**

> This wasnt meant to be this long and I apologize because this is ridiculous and I'm sorry but yeah I'm sorry if this is crap but i wrote it a long time ago but hey the endings fun so stick it out til the end  
> thanks <3
> 
> there is a part in chapter 2 (i think, or 3) that could be a triggering thing, so its 100% to okay to skip to the next chapter, you shouldnt miss anything, xx

1.

Harry sat by himself under the same tree every lunch hour. On a hill that overlooked the multi-purpose courts of his school. He had a routine for his lunch times, he’d eat first, usually from the brown paper bad that his mum made for him, then he might do some homework or read another chapter of whatever book he was reading but he usually lost interest in the school work or the book and would opt for staring at Louis. It was quite sad, really, the way Harry spent at least three quarters of his lunch hour staring blatantly at the older boy while he had no idea that Harry even existed.

“THE TOMMO STRIKES AGAIN” Louis yelled cheerfully,  lifting his blue football jersey over his head and streaking down the length of the courts with his toned torso on full display. Harry watched intently as Louis removed the shirt from his head and high-fived a few of his team mates. Louis was one of those kids that had everything. Good looks, money, athletic, funny, and not to mention he was on the honour roll. But he knew every good trait about him and used it to the best of his ability, his relationships lasted no longer than a mere week and he was a bit of a cock to be honest. But even when he was being the most arrogant prick, no one could hate him. He had some kind of magical force that pulled you into his heart and lodged you in there for all of eternity. He had un-deniable charm and he was the kind of guy who all the girls wanted, and all the guys wanted to be….with.

 Louis turned slowly on the, hoping that someone other than his mates had noticed his astounding goal; but of course, they had. Heads were turned left right and centre, all watching him with avid curiosity. He smiled to himself, he’d done it again, he’d managed to make himself the centre of attention once again and he loved it. Louis was like a shark in the respect, if a shark stops swimming it dies. If Louis stopped receiving attention he’d go the same way.

A shriek ringing sounded from the bell and Harry quickly stuffed the paperback novel clutched in his hand into his back pack, along with the remainders from his lunch and hurried to his next class, which he just so happened to share with Louis himself.

As always Harry was the first student inside. Seated and ready to go before half the class, including their teacher had even showed up, and as always, Louis was the last, bursting into the room with mock remorse and sliding into his seat 10 minutes late.

“So, today we are going to be discussing musical theatre and all its properties” Mr Partridge began, folding his flabby arms across his plump stomach, his second chin wobbling a little as he spoke. He gazed around his room, his dark eyes scanning over every single student seated rather uncomfortably in front of him as he continued to bore the class with his monotonous voice which could send you to sleep if you weren’t careful.

As Harry packed his belongings back into his school bag after class, he noticed a small split in the black material, which only worsened as he tried to jam 3 large textbooks, a laptop and a pencil case in to the already full back-pack. He eventually gave up and held the books in his large hands and sprinted from the performing arts block to the English department as he was already running late according to his schedule which usually caused him to arrive at least 5 minutes before anyone else.

“Watch it!” Louis warned him as his shoulder hit Harry’s forcefully, causing the lanky boy to fall off balance and go crashing into a locker to his right. “Sorry” Harry mumbled, bending down to pick up his fallen text books which had flown out of his hands as he hit the metal. He peered up cautiously when he was sure Louis was gone and just in time to watch as Louis strutted down the hall, hips swaying in time with an imaginary beat and arms swinging like he owned the place, which he probably did.

~*~

Harry sat alone in his room that night with his textbooks splayed out across his bed. He had several different sets of homework going at the same time; multi-tasking was one of Harry’s many talents. He focussed in on his Japanese homework, eyes squinting as he tried to decipher the difference between characters.  He groaned as his sister turned up her speakers while some pop shit played. He ignored it as best as he could, mumbling the foreign language under his breath, when suddenly his floorboards shook as the song hit its climax “Jesus, talk about a bass drop.” he mumbled, standing up and walking to the wall dividing the two rooms. “GEMMA TURN THAT DOWN, I’M TRYING TO STUDY” He yelled through the thin and almost paper like walls. But he was ignored, typical. He sat back down and tried to resume studying for a non-existent test, but something about the lyrics of the song were niggling at the back of his head. He closed his eyes for a second and let the music take over.

_You got style, you got grace_

_Kid you try so hard she just laughs in your face_

_You're a nice guy with the wrong attitude_

_She want (bad boy’s bad boys all we want is bad boys)_

He sat forward in his bed; ears pricking up to better hear the song as he tried to make sense of the lyrics, his brain in over drive as he formulated a plan.

 

_I treat her dirt she loves me good (so good)_

_And I just hate to have to tell you_

_Cause you're a nice guy but that just won't do_

_She want (bad boys bad boys all we want is bad boys)_

And that’s when the idea struck him. Louis was a bad boy, so that meant he liked guys who were bad too, right? So if Harry changed into the kind of person Louis usually dated, he could finally have a chance. He just needed someone to help him out.

He got up quickly and walked to his sister’s room, he stood outside for a few minutes, contemplating her reaction to his ‘grand plan’. He wondered whether she would help him or whether she’d just laugh in his face. He took a deep breath and pounded on her door, scared that he would chicken out and run off if he didn’t hard enough that it was obviously a person knocking, otherwise he’d probably blame it on the cat.

Not that they had a cat anyway.

It swung open almost instantly to reveal his older sister, with her straight brown locks and humble green eyes, so alike to Harry that they could pass as twins even though there was more than 5 years between them.  “Hey Haz” she said warmly, opening the door wider to invite him in, “thanks” he mumbled in reply, taking a seat on his older sister’s double bed.

“So what’s up?” She asked him casually, jumping onto the bed next to him.

“I have a plan to get Louis to fall in love with me.”

She didn’t reply for a moment, but when she did reply she was cautious, “explain?”

Harry repeated what had run through his head a thousand times a few moments before and she nodded in approval when he finished. “Not a bad idea but you shouldn’t have to change yourself for some prick, Haz” she said wisely, shrugging in an apologetic manner.

“Well he isn’t going to like me any other way. Anyways, if this fails I’ll just land right back where I started, no harm done, yeah?”

She didn’t reply again, only sighing, “ok fine, but how on earth am I going to turn you, the nerdiest kid in school, into a bad boy?”

Now it was Harry’s time to think, “uh, I think Louis likes leather jackets?”

“Well it’s a start.”

The pair spent the next 3 hours in Gemma’s room, going over rude words and phrases, some of which Harry had never even heard of before, let alone know the meaning of. Gemma also taught him some sexual jokes and conversation starters to keep the ball rolling if he actually ending up talking to Louis.

“Whatever you do, do not, I repeat, do not talk about school” She warned him as she spread some kind of hair product shit through his curls to give them volume. He swatted her hand away “what the fuck is this for?” he asked bluntly and was only answered with a tube being shoved in his face so he could read the label. He wasn’t so sure that this whole thing was such a good idea anymore.

Gemma woke him up earlier than usual the next day so he could ‘get ready’. Well it turns out that Gemma’s version of getting ready was a lot different to his. Example, he’d never once had to put on skinny jeans and it had resulted in him falling over multiple times and taking over 10 minutes. Nor had he ever worn make-up, he’d tried to protest but Gemma had only said “it brings out the colour of your eyes nicely, now hold still!”

The pair had borrowed a pair of extremely dark aviator glasses which Harry highly doubted he would be able to see out of from their neighbour, who had also lent them a black leather jacket.

On the drive to school she had given him a 10 minute crash course on how to be just the right amount of asshole without coming across as a complete dick head. This included a lot of sarcasm (which to Gemma’s delight, Harry was fantastic at) and acting like you really don’t give a shit. She also blabbered on about how thrilled she was that Harry had picked her, gushing about the fact that her baby brother was finally growing up. But the truth was that Harry didn’t have anyone else to go to in times like this. His mother? Yeah right. He had no friends, except maybe that blonde Irish kid in his English class who would never shut up. He was alright but they weren’t exactly close. But apart from him, Niall, I think, everyone else at his school was exactly the type of person Harry tried his hardest to avoid, but coincidentally, Gemma had turned him into exactly the kind of person he hated and had promised himself never to be like. Ugh.

The walk up to his homeroom was an awkward one; both girls and guys stared at him with the same intensity as you stare at an abnormal animal in a zoo. That’s exactly what Harry felt like at that moment, a display animal of some weird new species, a test subject, a freak of nature.

As per usual, Louis sat with his rather large band of loyal followers who obeyed his every order, however discerning or embarrassing. They all strived to be his next fling, his next lover and they wanted nothing more, and nothing less. They were all heavily focussed on whatever enthralling story Louis was bestowing in them that they didn’t notice harry as he slipped into his usual seat at the back. Louis glanced up quickly at the sudden movement in his peripheral vision but looked away just as fast, but a, oh so clichéd double take followed as Louis’ eyes landed properly on Harry for the first that morning, from which they almost never left.

“Who are you looking at, Lou?” Zayn asked non-chalantly, leaning across the table to whisper in his friends ear. Louis shook his head quickly as if it would shake him out of his trance before replying, “The new kid, who is he?”

Zayn chuckled lowly, “he’s not new”. Louis furrowed his eyebrows in a confused manner, “then how come I’ve never seen him before? Because I’m pretty sure I’d remember someone that fit!” he questioned, accenting the word ‘fit’ to put emphasis on Harry’s looks because _fuck_ that kid looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of Vogue magazine.

Zayn chuckled again, “I’ve never seen him look like that, believe me. I think-”

But Louis was already out of his seat and walking over to Harry’s reclusive spot in the classroom. Harry hadn’t noticed the older boy who was getting closer to him within his first hour of his façade than he had ever been in all 5 years he’d been at the school.

Louis flipped the hard plastic chair out from under the desk next to Harry’s and straddled it, “how don’t I know you?” he questioned confidently, peering into Harry’s bright green orbs. Harry took a deep breath to steady himself because _fuck_ Louis’ was so velvety and soft and beautiful and he could smell his cologne from here. He almost replied with some pathetic excuse, but remembering the hours he spent slaving over Internet sites in Gemma’s room he thought better of it.

“Guess you never paid attention.”

Louis bit his lip in thought, “I would’ve noticed a handsome boy like you even if I were blind.” he stated confidently, smirking slightly at Harry’s quick intake of breath. This had to be a dream, Harry had decided, not only had Louis chosen to sit with him but he had just called him handsome. He was about ready to sink into the plastic seat and never re-surface.

“Well that’s just too bad for you, I’ve been here 5 years.” he replied curtly, looking away and gnawing on the end of his pencil, trying to look disinterested when really his mind couldn’t be anywhere else if he tried.

“What’s your name?” Louis questioned a few moments later, never having once lost eye contact with the side of Harry’s face.

“Harry, Harry erm- Styles.” Harry said quickly, forgetting the ridiculous façade for a moment, he was too lost in Louis’ blue eyes, that now he was closer to him had a grey tinge to them.  
Pretty name for a pretty boy” Louis smiled, flirting shamelessly with the curly haired boy sitting beside him.

“And what’s yours?”

Louis answered him after a moment, too busy eyeing off a busty blonde that had just walked past with an over exaggerated sway in her hips.

“Louis” he mumbled, head turning to watch her until she turned the corner and disappeared.

“Well Louis, I’m sure your time would be much better spent with someone else, I’m not interested.” Harry crossed his fingers, toes and any other organ that could be crossed in hope that Gemma was right in saying that Louis would chase after anything he couldn’t have with a fierce passion until it was his. She was.

“What if I want you?”

Harry didn’t get a chance to reply because their supply teacher decided that now was the time to finally start the class, the bitch, looks like he’d just have to wait til break to talk to Louis again.

He felt someone tapping at his shoulder and he looked up from where he’d rested his head on his desk as he wrote down the notes they were required to compose.

“Pen?” Louis asked, corners of his mouth tweaking up as he extended his hand, Harry sighed and handed him a blue biro and returned to his notes.

As soon as he got home he was cornered by Gemma, demanding details of the day, firing questions at him like she was a rifle set on automatic. He answered them all as quickly and vaguely as possible before ducking out of the triangle between her arms and the wall and sprinting up the stairs into his room to avoid further interrogation.

Sitting down on his desk chair, he span around once and grabbed the small notebook which he liked to call his ‘other brain’ because he wrote down exactly how he was feeling, what happened that day and basically whatever else he wanted to write about because this was his personal space that no one else would read. He picked it up carelessly and a small rectangular blade fell out of the gaps between the pages, it was stained red in some places and he shook his head and shoved it under some text books, he wasn’t going to resort back to _that_ again. He began writing, his curly hand writing looping in all of the right places, his pen swirling with ease as he jotted down his inner most thoughts.

_Dear Future, or present or whatever the fuck you are, Harry_

_Today was a surprisingly good day, unlike most. Not only did I catch Louis’ attention after so long, he talked to me, but that’s not even the best part, he called me handsome! I promise you, I’m not a twelve year old girl obsessing over her crush. I am a 17 year old boy crushing on his crush. That’s basically all there is on the Louis subject except I’ve fallen even more in love with him, if that’s even possible_ , _is it? I don’t even know._

_In other news, I haven’t self-harmed in a week and the scars on my thighs and wrists are healing which is good, I guess. Its hard work not to resort back to it, there’s an itch under my skin just waiting to be solved by a blade piercing my skin and dragging through the flesh. I need to feel the rush and the quick release of it all but I can’t, I’ve come this far, I’m not giving up that easily._

He put his pen down and sighed in relief, somehow writing about his feelings made him relax and took a massive load off his shoulders, however sappy that sounds. It was like all his pent up anger and hurt just spilled out of his pen and formed into sentences. Writing was his creative outlet that helped him deal with pain, but sometimes it all got too much and slicing up his limbs seemed like the only option.

He heard the front door creak open and slam forcefully back into its hinges and he cringed, his father was home and by the sounds of things he was in a shit mood. In all honesty, Harry hated his dad, didn’t want a thing to do with him. Ever since he was about 5 years old he’d pushed him to be everything he’d wanted to be. Hours of studying every night to make sure he received full marks on every test he participated in, and if he didn’t, well the punishment was never fun. He’d be hit, yelled at and thrown the floor like a ragdoll. Mark’s voice would echo through the room, the words bouncing off the walls and into Harry’s brain where they would leave permanent indentations of ‘useless’, ‘stupid’, ‘doesn’t deserve to be brought up in this family’ and unfortunately the torments had stuck in his mind for years, unmoving and forever haunting. He pleaded for help, from anyone and everyone, but they all said the same thing. It was like screaming and no one can hear, except everyone can hear you, they just choose to ignore you instead of asking why in fact you are screaming.

But lately Mark hadn’t been home much, thank fucking God. The 3 of them had finally returned to a somewhat normal life but now he was home and Harry was literally hoping for the best but not only expecting the worst but predicting exactly what would go down. But nothing happened, well to Harry atleast. He was cooped up in his room fantasising about married life with Louis, you know, the usual. He could hear yelling alright, but it wasn’t aimed at him so he wasn’t altogether too worried. But soon enough the door slammed and the yelling ceased, he was gone again.

Harry wasn’t sure when he would be back but something in the bottom of his stomach told him it wouldn’t be good.

It would be hell.

But worse.

Much, much worse.

2.

Harry arrived at school the next day wearing almost the same thing as the day before, except a change of shirt and a little less styling gel in his hair. He received a few wolf-whistles as he walked past the group of jocks who hung out beside the science block at breaks smoking. One of them with a massive quiff that had a blonde streak through it made a ‘call me’ sign and winked, while another, a girl this time hit his arm and began to yell at him. Quiffy only laughed and kissed her temple, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace.

He sat down in his un-allocated but definitely claimed seat, while rolling his sleeves up and down to entertain himself. Pathetic, I know. The rest of the class dribbled in slowly and in small groups of two or three, that is until Louis and his band of followers emerged, laughing animatedly at the boy Harry was so desperately in love with. But he dispatched himself from the group and strolled over to where Harry sat.

“Hey hot stuff” Louis greeted him, smiling wickedly and straddling the chair next to him, just as he had done the day before. Harry nodded in acknowledgement, too caught up in his abstract thoughts to properly greet him. A subsequent “hmph” sounded from beside him and he looked up, “yes?” he asked, raising one of his freshly plucked eyebrows.

 (Thanks to Gemma’s insistent nagging and repeating of phrases such as “but they look like caterpillars!” and “your eyebrows need a divorce, sweetie. It’s time to face the music, it doesn’t even hurt.” He’d eventually caved in, like all house husbands except this is his sister and not his wife. News flash, having your eyebrows plucked her like a fucking bitch.)

“So,” Louis began, sliding his fingers together and placing his elbows on the desk. He rested his chin where his knuckles formed an almost straight line and peered up at Harry, his lips forming a small smile, one that definitely meant trouble.

“There’s a party this weekend at Zayn’s place and were allowed a plus one, wanna come?”

It took all of Harry’s will power and a little bit more to not scream “FUCK YES” at him and wrap his lanky arms around his neck and place a wet, sloppy kiss on his perfect face, but somehow he managed it and just uttered out a small “I’ll think about it” before returning to his sleeves.

Louis nodded beside him as their home room teacher strode into the classroom and clapped her hands in a totally primary school way as a signal for the class to shut the fuck up so she could start her lesson.

“Got a pen?” Louis asked quietly from beside him, corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile that Harry was quickly learning was his ‘I’m up to no good’ smile.

“What happened to the pen I gave you yesterday?” Harry questioned, reaching into his bag and fishing around for another biro to give the older boy.

“Lost it” Louis shrugged, picking the pen from between Harry’s fingers and sliding it between his own; he gave him a small wink before turning to the board and copying down the notes on the white board, which was totally, completely and utterly out of character of Louis. Harry just stared at him with complete and utter bewilderment the whole time because if there’s one thing Louis Tomlinson doesn’t do its listen in class.

When the bell rang Harry packed up his bag and started to make his way out of the classroom before he was yanked back in by his forearm by Louis, “what the hell?” Harry questioned and Louis chuckled and shoved a crumpled up piece of paper into his hands.

“Why are you giving me a piece of paper that looks like it was around in the time of the dinosaurs?”

“It’s an invitation, dumbass. For the party?” Louis rolled his eyes and continued, “you better come, or I’ll eat your first born” he threatened, eyes lighting up and crinkling at the sides as he smiled at his own humour.

“No promises” Harry mumbled, stuffing the paper into his bag and sauntering out of the classroom. But he made a promise to himself that he would be at that party, whether he was allowed to be or not.

Later on, when his family of 3 sat at the table that night there was an odd tension in the air, one that had never been there before. You could almost slice through the air with a knife.

(Which Harry was about to do before Anne yelled at him to put his cutlery down before he stabbed someone’s eyes out, which was a highly probably scenario.)

Gemma excused herself, gathering up her un-finished bowl of pasta and dumping into the sink and escaping to her room. Anne did the same and Harry was left by himself, genuinely puzzled by pretty much the entirety of the female race.

He washed all three plates because let’s be honest, no one else would do it and if he didn’t do it soon enough there would be a ceiling high stack of china plates with crumbs of food rotting away in the sink and Harry wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of having the smell of decayed food wafting through his house for the next three weeks- so he washed the dishes, like he always did.

He closed his bedroom door behind him and shimmied out of the unbearably tight jeans he’d been stuck, quite literally, in all day. He slipped on a pair of grey Jack Wills joggers from last year’s sale and flopped onto his bed. No studying tonight, only happy thoughts and fantasies of Louis.

But he eventually got bored of that and on a whim decided to check the under-whelming world of Facebook, where sluts fought to the death for who could get the most likes on a photo of themselves with their tits and guys played a game of how many girls they could tune in one night. 1 Notification. He hadn’t checked his account in 5 days, which just goes to show just how invisible to the world he was, even when he’d turned into _this._ He scrolled through his newsfeed and paused,  instantly wishing he hadn’t.

_Louis Tomlinson is in a relationship with Rebecca Fischer_

Harry glared at his screen, the so, so typical happening staring right back at him. Louis was a player, he knew that but this was like being punched in the stomach by a professional boxer while he tore at your heart, shredding it into a thousand tiny pieces and feeding them to a shark.

Well at least that’s how he felt. And this, this feeling of complete and utter uselessness happened every single fucking time Louis got a new girlfriend or boyfriend. He could feel a tear rolling down his cheek which was so cliché and so pathetic but he only sighed and opened his iTunes library and clicking on his ‘Louis’ playlist, again with the pathetic 12 year old girl behaviour he chose the first song on the list.

He definitely was not playing Justin Bieber’s song, ‘That Should Be Me’ at 9 o’clock at night while crying over his crushes new girlfriend. No, not at all.

He continued to scroll through his newsfeed like that pathetic excuse of a human being he was and there was the _fucking icing on the cake of lets-break-Harry’s-heart-shall-we._

_Love you so much baby, can’t wait to see you tomorrow._ _J_ _Xx_

2 hours together and already Louis ‘loves’ her, Harry couldn’t help but feel resentment for the girl he’d never met and probably never would either because Louis was _his_ even though he really wasn’t and this was all just too much for him because before he knew what he was doing his fingers were wrapping themselves around the little blade he’d hidden out of sight last night were holding it just above his skin, hovering over a healing scar, ready to be forced down and drag through his skin.

And that’s just what happened. Once, twice and then it was too many to count. Little beads of blood rolled down his forearm and tears rolled down his cheeks as he continued to slice up his arm and he could feel his pain flowing out of his system as easily as his blood flowed from his veins. This was why he hurt himself like this, so all the pent up pain and anger just flew away and all he was left with was a few healable scars.

It wasn’t exactly as if he wanted to die or anything but then again it wasn’t like he wasn’t particularly fond of living either. But the thought of knowing that he was free to kill himself when it got too hard was somehow comforting in a weird, twisted, fucked-up kind of way.

Harry was a walking travesty in dire need of help and he knew it, but he had learned long ago that no one cared about a sick little boy with cuts on his arms and a shattered heart and a fucked up past and a dysfunctional family and a mind as dark as the night sky. They just told you the same old thing,  that “it gets better” or blatantly thoughtless “just don’t cut” or some other stupid attempt at reconciliation. Harry had once been asked by a girl in his Biology class why he cut himself.

“Why do you breathe?” he had asked her in retaliation and her face had been engulfed by confusion, eyebrows furrowing together so much to the point that they almost formed one.

“To live?” she questioned, tone cautious and wary, like there was a right or wrong answer.

“Exactly.” Was all Harry had said in answer to her question and with that he’d turned away and they hadn’t spoken since. You can never understand or question the motives behind someone who self-harms until you’ve walked that road yourself, even then you still really have no idea because as corny as it sounds everyone’s different and everyone handles shit differently, some a lot better or worse than others.

All you can really do is offer your shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen with and the tact to never tell them to “just get over it” because chances are you’ll get a slap on the face and never hear their voice again, and that’s if you’re lucky.

But Harry didn’t have anyone like that; he’d successfully driven everyone away from him in his freshman year. That was his biggest regret. Refusing help and scaring off friends that had offered their assistance. Because back then it hadn’t been as bad. It was horrible, yes. Unbearable? Definitely not.

But now he was too far gone to productively receive help and was just waiting for the day when he snapped and ended it all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3.

In the days subsequent to his rather large break down, not only had Louis and his girlfriend broken up and gotten back together a grand total of 3 times but Harry had also, much to his dismay, witnessed them suck each other’s face off behind the gym in what looked like a fight to the death.

But now they were broken up for what he hoped was for good and finally things were coming up Harry. He’d gotten 100% on his Math exam, and an A on his English Assignment (Persuasive speaking was his forte) but now it was the day of the party Louis had invited him to and the skank he’d dated for all of 3 days was out of the picture and he couldn’t be happier.

Actually he could be but let’s not go there.

He’d dashed home after school, jumping into the shower and washing his curly locks. But then came the hard part. He had to decide what to wear and seeing as the only clothes he owned were straight cut jeans, polo shirts and the occasional bowtie, he was lost.

After doing an excruciating amount of digging around in his wardrobe his fingers clenched around a low cut white t-shirt which was far too small for him but he wore it none the less. He also put back on the black skinny jeans and leather jacket he had worn all week and covered himself in cologne and only then was he ready to go.

He tossed his hair one last time, picked up his mobile phone and walked out the door, calling out a quick good bye to his mum and sister.

The walk to the party was a long, steep and painful one, he made a quick note to himself to never, ever, ever in his life walk more than 3 miles in a pair of skinny jeans. He was so not going to be able to have kids.

He stood outside the literally buzzing house, music was blasting, some kind of techno shit which Harry had absolutely no taste for. The walls were wobbling and the floor was shaking as the party goers jumped up and down inside. This was about as far out of Harry’s comfort zone as you could get but he somehow found himself inside, standing in the middle of the hall, revolving slowly on the spot to try and find Louis. And if he couldn’t do that he would settle for the snacks table.

“Harry!” Louis slurred, and Harry whipped around to the left, where the voice had come from, only to see two girls going at it while a semi-circle of onlookers stood around them, cheering and yelling and throwing god knows what at the pair.

Louis pops up beside him and squeezes his shoulder, “what? How did you-” Harry begins but is cut off by Louis yelling over the top of both him and the music. Not to mention the screaming of the people around them.

“Come with me” He says and grabs his hand to make sure he does just that, leading him to another group of people. Harry raises his eyebrow in questioning; something along the lines of _what the fuck is going on here_? Louis answers straight away, as if he’d read Harry’s thoughts, his voice was light and happy and bubbly, “body shots!” he exclaims, pulling Harry into the throng as soon as the two people before them finish.

Louis pushes him roughly into the couch and lowers himself into Harry’s lap and fucking _straddles_ him. Harry takes a deep breath to steady himself and his hands rest comfortably on the small of the older boys back, somewhere between the bottom of his spine and his ass.

Louis was handed a wedge of lime and he promptly placed it between Harry’s teeth before he had a second to react. Flashing him a wicked smile, Louis ducked down to the curve of Harry’s jawline, licking a small trail from the almost right-angle and down to his prominent collar bone. Harry shivered and gripped onto Louis’ hips for support because _fuck,_ this is the futherest he’s ever gone with anyone in his life, which really isn’t saying much but he couldn’t help but stress over the situation. What if he fucked it up? What if Louis didn’t like what he saw? What if he was no good?

His thoughts were interrupted by a tickling sensation on his neck, salt was being sprinkled over the trail of saliva Louis had left. A small “oh-” escaped Harry’s full, pink lips as Louis bit down softly on the soft flesh of his neck, followed by his tongue grazing over the mark and sucking on the skin, intent on leaving a mark. Harry tilted his head back to give the older boy better access because _fucking hell_ this felt so good. Louis continued to work at his neck long after the salt particles were gone and Harry was nearly 100% sure that he had more than ten red marks along the side of his neck.

And then his tongue was gone and Harry couldn’t help but let a pathetic whimper escape out of his mouth, he opened his eyes to see Louis smirking like the bastard he is. Shot in hand. He downed it quickly and leaned forward again. His teeth sunk into the soft skin of the lime and pulled it from Harry’s mouth, sucking the juice from it slowly and letting his fingers trail over Harry’s forearms.

“Your turn, hot stuff” Louis murmured into his ear, hot breath tickling his earlobe and making his heart race. Harry nodded quickly and pushed Louis off him gently. Louis obliged and sat down next to him, swiftly pulling Harry into his lap.

Harry sat there, straddling him for a minute, taking in Louis’ beauty. His piercing blue eyes that twinkled darkly up at him, his perfect thin lips that looked oh so kissable and there was something about his face structure that sent butterflies to his stomach and a warm, pleasant feeling to the bottom of his abdomen.

A wedge of lime and a shot glass were thrust into his hands and he mimicked Louis’ movements from a few moments ago. Placing the lime in his mouth and resting the glass on the wooden table beside them. He leant down, just as Louis had and licked a trail from his jaw line to his collarbone, biting, sucking and nibbling gently wherever he felt the need to. He sprinkled the salt over his neck and licked it off, making sure to take his time, just as Louis had.

He sat up and plucked the fruit from Louis’ lips and ate it, discarding the skin on the floor and downing the shot.

His body began to tingle warmly as the alcohol swam through his veins and he could feel Louis squirming beneath him. He was about to stand up when he was thrown backwards as Louis pounced on him. Pushing him onto his back and resting his knees either side of his hips.

“What-” Harry began but was cut-off by Louis’ lips on his and his hands tangling through his hair, pulling lightly at the curls in a way that made Harry moan in ecstasy, god dammit, how did that boy already know his weak spot.

And then he was kissing back, tongues moving together like they were in a choreographed dance, fitting together perfectly like they were made for each other. Harry let out a soft moan from the back of his throat as the kiss deepened, Louis’ hand tightening in his hair. His own hands slipped down to Louis’ ass and gave it a quick squeeze. He felt Louis smirk around his lips as they continued to kiss. Harry’s head was swimming in either alcohol or the fact that this was _Louis._

Probably both.

Louis pulled away just enough to whisper in his ear something that made Harry’s stomach knot and face redden.

“Let’s take this somewhere private, eh?”

Harry just nodded and followed Louis as his hand tugged on the younger boys, pulling him into the bathrooms.

Louis walked in first and as soon as Harry stepped across the threshold he was pushed back into the door, slamming it shut. His eyes widened but Louis only kissed him, hard and desperate.

Louis pulled away and pulled his navy blue jeans down along with his stripy boxers all in one go. Harry moaned inwardly at the sight of Louis’ achingly hard cock. Louis took his length in his hand and ran fingers up his shaft, eyes fluttering shut. Harry could feel his jeans tightening unbearably around him.

“Louis” Harry moaned breathlessly as he watched Louis stroke himself, pre-come glistening off the tip of his hard-on.

“Blow me” Louis ordered. His voice low and forceful. Harry nodded and got on his knees shakily, tongue darting out to wet his lips- it was a nervous habit of his.

He closed he eyes briefly, willing his brain to recollect the memories of every single porn video he’d watched as an adolescent to try and give him some kind of idea of how to do this. A particular memory came to mind and he tentatively reached his hand out and slides it down the length of Louis’ half hard cock to grip tightly at the base. He shuffles closer and leans forward, tongue flicking out to slide over the slit where pre-come is bubbling lazy.

Louis hisses and bucks his hips forward involuntarily and Harry does it again.

A soft moan escapes Louis’ mouth and Harry has a sudden rush of confidence. He slides Louis into his mouth, taking as much of him as he can which is only about half way and comes back up, tongue flicking over the slit again.

“Harry” Louis breathes shakily, threading his fingers through the younger boy’s curls and pulling at them gently, edging him to go down again.

He obliged and bobbed his head back down, hollowing his cheeks as he’d watched so many do and humming gently to no particular tune because he knew that that drove people crazy. Louis’ fingers tightened painfully in his hair, threatening to pull it out by the handful and he sighed out a small moan.

“Yeah” He sighed, his eyes fluttering shut, “fuck you’re so good”

Harry pulls away again to focus on the head, tongue sliding across the slit and lips tightening around the head and he can feel Louis getting harder by the second, if that’s even possible.

His hand slides up Louis’ shaft to meet where his tongue is working around the slit, teasing and sliding effortlessly and Louis groans in pleasure, eyes closing once more and leaning against the cold, stone basin behind them for support.

“C-close” he muttered, hips bucking forward again, thrusting gently into Harry’s mouth. He slid him into his mouth once more, sucking in earnest as his tongue slid along the base of his hard cock. He glanced up curiously at Louis and that pushed him over the edge.

Hips bucking forward hard and head tipping back Louis shot his load into the back of Harry’s throat, along with an array of swear words and muffled moans. Harry was stuck; he had no idea what to do. Hundreds of questions ran laps around his mind, does he spit it out? Does he swallow it? Does it taste disgusting? Oh god this is wrong, these are children. Will I hurt his feelings if I spit it out?

But it seemed like Louis was reading his mind, “just swallow, love, it’s not poison.”

Harry nodded slowly and let the liquid slide down his throat and he shuddered involuntarily at the taste, face screwing up in disgust.

Louis chuckled, “it’s an acquired taste.” Harry nodded again and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, vowing to himself that the next time he did this he’d spit because _fuck_ that was disgusting.

 

 

 

                              

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4.

On Monday, Louis didn’t sit with Harry like he normally did, instead he’d retreated back to his old band of friends and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It was obvious why he was avoiding him but it didn’t stop it from hurting so much. But on the plus side, one of Louis’ friends, Liam, had tried to befriend him in Math, offering to help him out with some ridiculously difficult equation that had the whole class in near tears. But Harry had kindly shooed him away, insisting that he knew how to do it, he was just going about it the wrong way.

He actually had no idea what he was doing but he just didn’t want human contact. To be serious, Louis had been the first person outside his family that he’d help a proper conversation with in months and he’d kind of forgotten how to interact with others. Sure, he’d talked to some of his teachers and maybe a class mate or two but they’d never really _talked._ It was all, “how do you do this?” and “what class do you have next?” that kind of bullshit that drove Harry mad. And now the loss of contact from Louis was driving him insane.

A while ago, Louis had given Harry his number, “just for emergencies” he’d said and yeah, this was definitely an emergency, he was going crazy.

_Why are you avoiding me Louis? Harry. X_

He didn’t get a reply to that, nor the 50 other texts, missed calls and Facebook messages he’d sent.

Louis avoided him all of Tuesday too, and Wednesday and Thursday and by Friday, he ignored all forms of contact and couldn’t even _look at him,_ and quite frankly, Harry had had enough.

“Why are you avoiding me, Louis?” Harry asked, cornering the smaller boy in a corner as he packed up after home room. His eyes widened briefly before flicking down to his bag, “Don’t know what you’re talking about” he muttered, slinging it over his shoulder and giving Harry a look that had _get the fuck out of my way_ written all over it, but Harry stood his ground.

“Why are you avoiding me, Louis?” Harry repeated, eyes narrowing and voice lowering. He punctuated every word, pausing in between for emphasis.

“Not your business” Louis bit back, ducking under Harry’s arm and trotting out of the classroom. Harry groaned but let him go, he’d try again some other time where he had no way of escaping.

But Harry wasn’t the Harry that Louis knew anymore, a week after the party he’d gone back to boring old polo wearing Harry he had been before. Whats the point? He’d argued with himself, he’d gotten Louis (however briefly) and now he was back to being untouchable and honestly, this charade was getting ridiculous. So when he showed up in homeroom the next day looking like he had no more than 2 weeks ago, he wasn’t surprised that no one even gave him a second glance.

“Who’s the new kid?” Louis had whispered into Zayn’s ear, glancing back at the kid who was sitting in Harry’s seat.

Zayn chuckled, “fuck you’re an idiot, Louis”, Louis slapped him gently on the arm. Even though Zayn was a dickhead he was still his best friend and he hated hurting him. He was the one he went to for everything, like when they were 13 and Louis got dumped by his first boyfriend, Leo and he’d gone over to Zayn house for movies, ice-cream and cuddles, Or after his most recent break up (Not counting the 3 day relation _shit_ between him and Rebecca, that doesn’t count) with his long term boyfriend, Max, where the exact same thing had happened.

It happened every time one of Louis’ relationships ended, whether he was at the good end or not.

He’d call Zayn up in tears, yes, tears, and demand he dropped whatever bullshit activity he was involved in and come over at once and cuddle him because he hated being lonely. That was Louis’ biggest fear, being alone. People always mistook him for a player when really he was just a hopeless romantic teenager who was desperate to find love because there’s nothing scarier than growing old alone. Well at least that’s what Louis thought.

But in the most clichéd way ever, Zayn had carelessly mistook all their playful cuddling, exchanging of compliments and just pure _love_ for something more than just friends. You see, Harry Styles wasn’t the only one in love with Louis Tomlinson.

“Ok then who is it, Malik?” Louis questioned, resting his head on Zayn’s shoulder and glancing subtly at the unrecognizable boy through his aviator sunglasses.

“Your lover boy” Zayn sighed, his words earning him another slap, this time a lot harder. “Ow! It’s true and you know it Lou. You can’t run forever” He cried, rubbing his mid-thigh as it throbbed from where Louis’ hand had made contact.

“Fuck _off”_ Louis groaned, slumping forward in his seat and crossing his arms defensively across his chest.

“Is ickle-Louis mad that I pointed out the truth for once?” Zayn taunted, flicking Louis’ earlobe playfully.

“I said, _fuck off”_

“Lou you should just tell him, I mean come on, have you seen the way he looks at you? And you always say how much you want to date someone who isn’t a complete asshole and he’s sitting right in front of you!” Zayn’s voice had increased from a soft whisper to a desperate one. He wanted what was best for Louis, even if it wasn’t him.

Louis didn’t reply, he only stared forward intently, trying desperately to block out Zayn’s irritating voice because _Fuck_ with a capital F, he was right. The only reason he’d been avoiding Harry was because there was something about that stupid dimple-y smile and those stupid curly locks and those stupid emerald eyes and those stupidly big hands that was kind of just… not stupid.

He caved in, turning to Zayn looking like a mix between a Physics student during their exams and a lost puppy. “What do I even say to him? Oh sorry I’ve been avoiding you for two weeks but I think I’m falling in love with you. Yeah, like that’ll happen.”

“Oh so you are falling in love with the kid?”

 “I’m in love with how his tongue feels on my dick” Louis said, trying his best to keep a straight face but Zayn wasn’t thinking anything along the same lines as him. He snorted and let out a loud bark of laughter, “yeah” he said, trying his best to suppress his giggles, “that’s why you called me up last night in tears saying you wished he would ask you out.”

Louis threw his hands up in defeat, slamming his head on the desk and groaning. This was too hard for so early in the morning.

“10 points to Malik for outsmarting the Tommo for the three thousandth time”

“10 points to Malik for being the most annoying little prick to ever roam this earth, god, why do I even consider you my best friend, you’re a cock”

“Because I give you kisses and cuddles when you’re upset and not to mention I give amazing back-rubs” Zayn sighed.

Louis nodded, “speaking of which, you owe me one for this Malik”

“Only if you talk to Harry”

“Deal.”

~*~

Louis approached Harry cautiously after school, completely out of his comfort zone because fuck he hated not knowing what to say or how someone else would react or even if they would reply. It made him feel vulnerable and he did not like it, not one bit.

“Harry I need to talk to you”

Harry looked at him and was that _pity?!_ No, it couldn’t be.

“I don’t have time for people like you.”

 _Ouch._ Yeah that was definitely pity.

“Look I’m sorry, it’s just I do this thing when I’m confused that I avoid people and like, I ignore them and just kind of doesn’t talk about my feelings and I’m sorry.”

Harry sighed and he struggled to find a really interesting spot on the floor because _fuck_ that would be so much better than having this conversation with Louis. He was done, finished, kablamo. Is that even a word? Who cares, he was sick of being ignored by everyone, sick of being treated like he was invisible. He was sick to death. And if this continued, the last word would probably become reality.

“What exactly are you confused about?” Harry questioned, finally looking up into Louis’ pale grey eyes and instantly wishing he hadn’t because he was so fucking beautiful it _hurt._

“ikindofreallylikethethoughtofyousuckingmydickandcoincidentallyithinkimfallinginlovewithyou”

The words tumbled out of Louis’ mouth and ended up sounding like one a computer trying to pronounce a keyboard smash. Admit it, you’ve smashed your face on the keyboard at one point or another and gotten your computer to pronounce it. Well that’s exactly what that sentence sounded like.

“All I got from that was dick.”

Louis groaned and repeated his sentence, but a lot slower, he was not going to repeat it again.

“I kind of really like the thought of you sucking my dick and coincidentally I think I’m falling in love with you”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and _laughed,_ he thought it was some kind of sick joke that Louis’ ass hole friends had put him up to because that’s the kind of people they are. They laugh at other peoples misfortunes.

“Nice joke.” Harry spat, shaking his head in disgust and turning on his heal to walk away but he was yanked back quickly by Louis and pressed against the lockers.

“If it were a joke would I do this?” and then he was kissing him and “oh” was all that Harry managed to say before his lips were shoved between Louis’ and oh this was so, so much better when they weren’t under the influence of alcohol and Harry loved that he could literally taste the salt and vinegar crisps Louis had obviously just eaten on his tongue.

Louis cupped Harry’s face in his hands and pulled away, “Theres something about you that’s driving me crazy. I don’t know what it is but all I know is that I need to make it mine.”

Harry swallowed thickly and tangled his fingers in the hem of Louis’ shirt, “so watcha gonna do about it?”

Louis smirked, and leaned in again and pecking him lightly and resting his forehead against the other boys, mumbling against Harry’s lips.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5.

”No”

Louis’ jaw almost hit the floor as that one, little lethal word tumbled out of Harry’s mouth, successfully tearing open his chest and stabbing him right in the heart. He was so sure, so, so sure he would say yes. Especially if Zayn was anything to go buy, which he normally was, he was a walking gossip machine, he knew anything and everything about everyone, that’s why his hair was so big, it’s full of secrets.

“Wh-why not?” Louis was asking pathetically, eyebrows cinching together and just altogether making him look like a puppy.

“I know how you work, Louis. You date someone for what, a month? Or even less. And then you break up with them because you found someone new. I don’t want to be just another one of Louis Tomlinson’s flings. I want a proper relationship, not some bullshit 30 day trial, I want the real deal.”

 _Ouch._ This kid really knew how to hit home. Louis shook his head because no, that was so not how he worked. Or was it? He made a mental note to ask Zayn about that one.

“Let me take you on a date then.” He announced, “my mate, Zayn has a football match and he wanted me to go so can I take you so I’m not all alone? Please?” He stuck his bottom lip out and clasped his hands together just beneath his chin and Harry swatted at him, “stop with the puppy dog eyes, will you?”

“Only if you let me take you on a date”

“I just said-”

“7pm, this Friday.” He insisted, winking at the younger boy before walking away, leaving Harry with no other option than to meet him at the pitch the next day, like he wanted to reject him any further. This was all he wanted but _something_ , something evil and twisted and just awful was telling him that this was a bad idea and that his heart would get broken and it would end so badly but he couldn’t help it.

It was just like.

Whatever.

~*~

By the time 6:30 on Friday night had rolled around, Harry was still sitting atop his navy blue duvet. Naked and indecisive. If he didn’t go he’d be potentially hurting Louis and ruining whatever thing they had, but on the other hand, if he did go, he was setting himself up for heartbreak and he just didn’t want to even think about what horrible thoughts would run through his mind if after all these years he finally got Louis and he just, well, left.

His phoned buzzed from where it sat, untouched on his wooden beside table. You could almost see a layer of dust covering the screen because no one ever, _ever,_ texted him or called him. Like, ever.

He reached out and curled his fingers around it and pressed the little square button at the bottom, the screen lit up with the message ‘ _1 new message from Louis’,_ he couldn’t help but smile as he opened it.

_Are you coming or what?_

Harry bit his lip in thought, was he? He closed his eyes briefly, contemplating his best move.

_Yes._

He got a reply almost instantly, one that made his heart race and his stomach fill with butterflies.

_Yay! Can’t wait to see you babycakes. Xx_

And with that he got up and forced himself to shower and put on a plain white t-shirt, dark jeans and a pair of converse and a beanie. He tucked his curls underneath the material and grabbed his wallet and phone as he headed out the door.

~*~

“So, let me get this straight” Zayn started, rubbing his face with his hands before clasping them beneath his chin, “you asked him out and he said no but he’s still coming to _my_ game?”

“Correct”

Zayn sighed exasperatedly, Louis was weird like that. Oddly persistent, he was one of those kids who wouldn’t give up the ball in football until they scored a goal, or who wouldn’t stop asking people out until they said yes, although, in that department they always said yes on the first go. Louis was just one of those people who all the girls wanted to be with and all the guys wanted to be on. It was just how it worked.

“But he said no” Zayn continued, trying his best to make sense of the situation because quite frankly he had no idea what the fuck was happening.

“And?”

“Well... then shouldn’t he have said no??” He asked, eyebrows raising in complete confusion.

“Maybe”

 _Fuck,_ what was with all these one word answers? He should have been annoyed but there was something in his voice that pulled at Zayn’s mind, telling him there was something wrong with his best friend that he wouldn’t tell him about if he didn’t ask, Louis was like that.

“You alright, mate?”

Louis looked up at him and sighed, “nervous is all” he muttered, bending down and re-rolling the bottom of his jeans and Zayn laughed.

“You really like this kid hey?”

Louis nodded and attended to the other trouser leg, “its just- what if I fuck it up again, Zayn?”

“You haven’t fucked it up already, Lou. Or have you? Oh my god please don’t tell me you were fucking him and screamed out the wrong name like you did with Kayla?”

“No! No, God no, we haven’t done anything like that. And it was _one time_ Malik and in 10th grade! Can you stop reminding me every 5 seconds? Fuck.”

“Never” he smiled, and Louis hit his arm. Probably a lot harder than he’d first intended to, “You’re a prick” he stated, rolling his eyes and looking across at his best friend. He didn’t have his hair up in a quiff like he normally did, instead it was flat against his forehead for the game. Louis couldn’t help but reach out and curl a lock of hair around his finger, around and around it went before it slipped out from between his fingers and dropped back onto his head.

Zayn chuckled and brought his knee up to his chest to tie his laces, “so wheres lover boy?” he asked casually and sneaking a glance at Louis in his peripheral vision.

“He’s coming…”

Zayn smirked, his mind instantly finding the dirty side to what he’d said, “oh I didn’t know he told you all about his sexual activities” and Louis swatted at him and sending him a look that Zayn was sure that if looks could kill he would have died then and there.

“Mind out of the gutter, Malik” Louis warned and Zayn just chuckled.

“Only if you stop being a player, Tomlinson” he teased.

“I- I am not a player!” Louis mumbled, putting up a pathetic argument for a statement he knew was true.

“Yeah and I’m not Captain of the worst football team in Doncaster”

Louis groaned, he hated it when Zayn was right and he hated it even more when he was wrong.

“Whatever.”

“10 points to Malik for-” he started but was cut off quickly by Louis.

“Being the biggest shit-head in school” he finished for him , shooting him a sweet smile and ducking away as Zayn’s hand came flying for him and missing him by nearly half a metre.

“Missed me, Malik” Louis teased, jumping out his seat as Zayn lunged for him, missing him again.

Louis cackled, “you’ve got the reflexes of a sloth” he all but choked out as Zayn came flying at him and tackling him to the floor, pinning his arms above his head and knees either side of his waist while he sat on his stomach.

“You’re a cock” Zayn grumbled, squeezing his hands gently and standing up, reaching his right hand out for his friend to help him up.

“You are what you eat” Louis giggled, reaching into his pocket and texting Harry again. Zayn just rolled his eyes at his so, so overused joke.

_Where are you? Xx_

Harry replied almost instantly and Zayn rolled his eyes again as Louis’ face lit up when the text tone sounded.

“God, you’re like a 12 year old girl, Lou”

“13 thank-you very much, I do believe I’ve hit puberty.”

Louis’ fingers padded away on the touch-screen keyboard and he hit send just as Zayn replied.

“Yeah, you’re right. You do have the voice of a 13 year old girl. Body too.” Zayn laughed and Louis kicked his leg out to hit him in the balls because _fuck_ he deserved that one.

_Turn around._ _J_

Harry had texted him and Louis whipped around as soon as he read it to see the curly haired lad standing in the doorway, smiling sheepishly at the pair in front of him.

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed, rushing forward and wrapping his arms around his neck in a tight embrace, “glad you could make it”. Harry smiled and waved to Zayn.

“So this is the famous Harry Styles?” Zayn asked, stepping forward and glancing sideways at Louis who was glaring straight at him.

Harry blushed and nodded.

“All Louis ever does is talk about you, I swear” he teased before extending his hand in a friendly manner to introduce himself, “I’m Zayn, by the way, Zayn Malik”

“I know” was all Harry could say, because of course he knew who Zayn was. He was easily the fittest guy in school, apart from Louis, and he had this amazing voice that really stood out in the midst of all the electrical instruments placed around him when his band performed. He was in a typical high-school garage band named _The In Crowd_ which was such an ironic because he _was_ in the ‘in’ crowd, he was, along with Louis, the most popular kid in school and Harry had no idea how he of all people had managed to hang out with these two. They were like the Kardashian sisters, Louis was Kim of course. You don’t just have an ass like that for nothing and I guess the amount of crying and whinging he did were fair contributors too.

~*~

Awkward was the most accurate word to describe their so called, ‘date’ that night. After Zayn had left the dressing room for his warm-up Louis had praticallly thrown himself at Harry, firing question after question at him.

“Why don’t you want to be my boyfriend? Are you straight? But you sucked my dick? Am I too annoying? Do you find me annoying, Harry? Tell me the truth. Are you seeing someone else? Do you hate me? Why do you hate me? What have I done? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

 _Woah, when did this turn into 20 questions,_ Harry thought, rubbing his eyes as Louis babbled on and on.

“Hello? Anyone home?” Louis clicked his fingers in front of Harry’s face after he’d ignored his 12th question a row and Harry blinked and looked up at him.

“Sorry, what?”

Louis groaned and repeated himself, “I said, why don’t you want to be with me”

This time it was Harry’s turn to groan because _fuck_ he didn’t really know anymore and he kind of wanted to be and the words were falling from his lips before he had time to actually think about it.

“Who said I didn’t want to be with you”

Louis’ eyes lit up and he cracked a smile, one that crinkled up his eyes and made him look like an adorable kitten.

“So is that a yes?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “to what?”

“To being my boyfriend”

He bit his lip, “ _you only live once”_ his mind was chanting over and over and he was pretty sure if this didn’t work out that that would be his one life gone because he really couldn’t deal with the aftermath of a break up with Louis but just seeing how _happy_ Louis got from being around him he just couldn’t think straight, no pun intended.

“Of course I will be”

And then Louis’ lips were on his, kissing his brains out in thanks because really, this was what they both wanted, right?

Yeah, probably.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6.

Turns out having a boyfriend is a lot harder than Harry had first anticipated. You can’t just leave them in a corner, feed them twice a day and take them for a walk once a week. No, you actually have to put time and effort into seeing and talking to them and it was stressful to say the least.

He was constantly out with Louis and when he wasn’t he was texting him or calling him or simply _waiting_ for him. It was honestly the most pathetic thing he’d ever seen. Over the weeks, he’d become increasingly close to Liam, Zayn and Niall, all Louis’ friends, of course. Liam was his favourite though and he was quite quickly becoming his first proper best friend, as weird as it seemed, he’d never been close enough to someone to even call them his friend, let alone his best friend (with the exception of his mother, but admitting that your best friend is you mum is kind of embarrassing).

One particular afternoon, the 5 of them were sat in Louis’ room, all perched in different places around the room. Liam was straddling the swivel desk chair with his chin resting on the back of the chair. Niall was hanging upside down on the bed, legs swinging up into the air periodically and Zayn was sprawled across the wooden floor, arms behind his head. Harry and Louis were curled up on the bed, Harry’s head in his boyfriends lap while he was quite literally petted. Louis’ fingers ran through his soft curls in a weirdly soothing way as the five of them discussed whatever strange topic came to mind.

Right now was the topic of Zayn’s almost non-existent love life, which was oddly fascinating.

“I just want to be someone’s boyfriend, is that seriously too much to ask?” He questioned, and he was answered by a chorus of “yes it is” (They all high-fived each other over their in-sync moment as Zayn glared at them all, clearly not impressed.)

“What about that Brooke girl?” Niall asked, “the one with the massive tits?”

“Yeah,” Louis piped up, “I heard she likes you”

“Fit too” Liam added. And just like the scene in Mean Girls how they’re listing everything little imperfection about them and Cady is silent the whole time, and every girl has said at least one thing and they all turn to look at her, just waiting for her to add in because fuck if you can’t list something bad about yourself than you’re a stuck up bitch.

Well that happened and Harry hastily added, “She seems nice”.

Louis reached his hand up and stroked his face with the back of his hand, smiling fondly at him from above. “There, there, Haz, we can’t be right all the time” and Harry just rolled his eyes.

“I heard shes a total bitch though” Zayn mumbled, looking completely dejected and completely disagreeing with everything Harry had just said.

“Zayn, if you like her that much just ask her out?” Louis questioned, voicing the question that was on everyone’s mind.

“Ok. Ok, fine. Only because this is total peer pressure and I’m caving in because I’m a weak little shit”

“Uh huh..” Louis murmured, rolling his eyes and pulling gently at one of Harry’s curls, earning him a soft smack.

“So change of topic,” Louis began, gazing around the room to watch the other boy’s expressions as they tuned back into the conversation, having become disinterested half way through the last one. “I have a really serious question that I have to ask you all and you have to promise not to laugh”

Harry cocked an eyebrow and the rest sighed in almost knowingness and Louis continued, “can girls drink their own breast milk?”

The four of them groaned and he was answered by a chorus of “not again!” and a “that’s disgusting, Lou” from Harry.

“I’m serious! I just wanna know!”

Harry pressed his hand to Louis’ lips in an attempt to shut him up and he was thanked instantly with an “I like this kid” from Niall could, as he picked at his grubby nails, heavily focussed on getting the dirt out from underneath them.

Louis bit the skin of his middle finger and Harry yelped, pulling his hand away instantly.

“Ow, Lou!”

Louis smiled sweetly up at him, eyes closing and eye brows rising. Harry had to smile at his new born puppy adorable levels. Harry pressed a soft kiss to his temple and leant back against the headboard of the bed and Louis smirked.

“What do you want, Tommo?” Harry questioned.

“To fuck you against that headboard” and if Harry had been drinking water at that moment it would have just erupted out of his mouth, reaching all corners of the room because _fuck,_ that was not what he was expecting to hear on a lazy Sunday morning when it was far too early to be awake.

Not to mention that they hadn’t even been that far. They hadn’t touched each other since Zayn’s party, minus a few messy hand jobs here and there but nothing more. And both Harry and Louis were dying to take it one step further, Louis more so than Harry.

“Well ok then” Harry replied, lacing his fingers ever so effortlessly through Louis’ and humming lowly in his ear, just the way he loved it. Even in moments like these when they were surrounded by others they could just drift off into their own little worlds where it was just them and nothing else. Nothing else mattered and all they wanted and needed was each other and it was just perfect.

Louis squeezed Harry’s hand gently and rested his head in the crook of Harry’s neck, where his shoulder flowed into his neck and up to his jawline. And just the way that Louis’ body slid in so easily with Harry’s just made it feel so right. They were like a puzzle, a 2 piece puzzle, a very easy one, but perfect never the less. Harry was just the right amount bigger than Louis so that his whole body just encompassed Louis’. Whenever it got cold they would lie down together and Harry would tuck his legs under Louis’ bum and cling him tightly to his chest and they would lie like that for hours, a thousand unsaid but definitely felt words being exchanged between them through the heat that drifted between their bodies and nothing had ever felt more like heaven before.

Harry’s mind drifted to a week or so before, they’d been curled up in Louis’ lounge room watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S. re-runs and sharing a bowl of popcorn and they’d giggle every time they went for the popcorn at the same time and their hands met in the middle because out of all the time in the world, they’d both chose that exact moment to reach for the snack and it just so happened to be the same time as the other and it just made them feel that little bit more connected to each other.

 “You’re Monica” Louis had blurted out nowhere as they neared the end of the third season and coming close to finishing their fourth bowl of the overly buttery, salty but still fucking delicious popcorn.

“Well then you’re Joey” Harry had commented and Louis had frowned.

“Why can’t I be Chandler?” He’d questioned, gazing up at him with his piercing grey eyes that seemed to stare straight into your soul.

“Because you’re more like Joey” Harry had argued, playing with Louis’ hands and returning his intense stare.

“But Joey isn’t in love with Monica like Chandler is” he’d whispered, smiling bashfully at his feet as he’d said it and Harry had blinked a few times, trying to register what Louis had said because _no, he had to have heard that wrong_.

“You’re what?”

“I’m in love with you, Harry” Louis had breathed, cupping Harry’s face in his hands and pressing his lips to his and _fuck_ that had to be the sweetest kiss he’d ever had.

“I love you too, Louis” Harry had mumbled against his lips, not bothering to move away because this was too perfect, too intimate, too _right_ to end that quickly, so he stayed, pressed close against Louis for the rest of the day, F.R.I.E.N.D.S. was forgotten and the popcorn lay untouched because right now, all they wanted was each other.

Nothing more, nothing less.

A soft little “ahem” coming from beside him stirred him from his memories and he looked down to see Louis sprawled in his lap, sucking on his fingers in what would have been a seductive way if he hadn’t had been wearing the most exasperated look on his face. Harry chuckled and pulled his fingers away gently, flicking Louis’ nose as he went, “whats up, buttercup?”

“Ive been trying to get your attention for like 10 minutes” he said and pouted.

“Oh, so that’s why you look like an angry puppy”

Louis swatted at him and Harry returned the gesture by kissing him and Louis absolutely melted into the touch, lips moulding into the younger boys, moving together in perfect rhythm, and even now he could still feel the fireworks. As stupid as it sounds.

Like.

Every time he kissed him he got this warm, happy feeling in his stomach and his lips tingled and he was just overcome with pure bliss, like all his worries just faded away. Instead of blackness when you closed your eyes you could see into your future and it was with him and nothing could dampen his mood, and when he pulled away his stomach filled with butterflies and his breath hitched because he still wasn’t over the fact that Harry was his, and he was Harry’s and nothing was ever going to come between them and they’d be together for the rest of eternity and they’d live in a big castle on the top of a hill, and-

Ok, maybe not but you get the gist.

Later that day when everyone else had left and it was just them, Louis couldn’t help but lean over and whisper, “so what are we doing after we graduate?”

The look on Harry’s face was absolutely priceless, a mixture of shock, relief and joy all rolled into one adorable little cupcake, as Louis liked to call him.

“Maybe,” Harry mused, drawing circles over Louis’ knuckles with his thumb, “we could get a place of our own?”

Louis nodded and pressed a soft kiss to his chin and squeezing his hand.

“Better start saving up, Styles” Louis teased, and Harry only sighed, finally happy with his life and the direction in which it was headed and he couldn’t be happier with how this whole situation with Louis turned out when it could have been worse than a head on collision with a Semi-trailer, but it wasn’t. It turned into something so pure and beautiful that he couldn’t help but wonder if he was really dreaming, or maybe he was just living his dream.

~*~

_Come over tonight, we need to talk._

Harry got the text at 11am that day and the first thought that came to mind was “what have I done?” and he racked his brain desperately, willing himself to recall anything he’d done in the past 6, almost 7, months that could have pissed Louis off.

Nothing.

He pushed the real estate brochures he’d been flicking through out of curiosity, off his bed and slipped on a hoodie, he wasn’t going to wait until later to find out his fate and whether or not he would return home with a boyfriend, he was going over there now and there was anyone could say to make him re-think that.

_Don’t come now, I’m not home._

Ok, except that. It was like Louis could read his mind. He slumped back onto his bed and ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, pulling at it periodically, _what had he done?_ The question ran laps around his mind, relaying back and forth, over and over again until the words because twisted, _what had he done?_ Harry reflected back on the past week. Had anything been different? Had anything changed?

No, no and no.

So what was it? He was bursting to know the intentions behind Louis’ sudden call to arms and it was going to eat him alive if he didn’t find out soon.

Well he wasn’t eaten alive, but he nearly died of boredom as he sat on his bed for the rest of the day, watching as the second hand ticked by as he counted away the hours until he could see Louis. As soon as he deemed late enough, he dashed out of his room, grabbed the keys and drove to Louis’ house, narrowly avoiding 3 different collisions as he went, his mind was too fogged up to think clearly and he could swear he couldn’t see properly. He was aching to know the reason behind his sudden change in warmth. He would usually put and ‘x’ or sign off with ‘Boo. Xx’ but not this time. There was something definitely wrong and Harry couldn’t help but stress over the situation until he had utterly convinced himself that he was going to get dumped, thrown in front of a bus and have his corpse fed to sharks.

So much for forever.

 

 7.

As soon as Harry’s fist made contact with the thick wooden door that marked the entrance to Louis’ house, the door swung open to reveal a very dishevelled looking Louis. His eyes were red from where tears had broken their banks and he’d tried desperately to rub them away because there was nothing he hated more than crying, but it hadn’t worked. They’d slipped past his shaky fingers and trailed down his cheeks, living visible tear tracks and his bottom lip was definitely wobbling and Harry’s heart just _broke._ There had never been a point in their relationship that Louis had looked younger than he was, he was always so prim and proper and he looked about 20 years old, usually. But something about the way his lip stuck out and how his eyes were desperate, sad and you could _feel_ the hurt radiating off him, there was something about his stance, his slumped shoulders which were usually held up straight because Louis Tomlinson did not slouch. There was something about the way his breath hitched in his throat as he tried desperately not to break down into tears in front of Harry that made him look like a child, it made him look so, so vulnerable and small and Harry wanted nothing more than to pull him into a bone crushing hug and whisper in his ear that everything would be ok, even if it wasn’t.

But instead he stepped inside his house, closed the door softly and took Louis into the kitchen, sat him down at the table and flicked the kettle on. He sat opposite the older boy and took his hands in his own, rubbing circles across his knuckles in what he hoped was a soothing way.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he cooed, squeezing his hand gently and biting his lip.

Instead of verbally replying, Louis reached into his pocket and pulled out possibly the most tattered piece of paper he’d ever seen in his life. It was damp from where tears had flowed onto it and there was an infinite number of creases from where it had been folded, scrunched and stuffed into God knows where, and there were rips along the edges and holes through the middle and all Harry could do was sigh and open it for the hundredth time and as he read the first line he furrowed his eyebrows and read the text out loud, unable to make sense of Louis’ distraught.

“Dear Mr. Tomlinson, you have been accepted into New York’s Academy of the Dramatic Arts” Harry looked up at him as a hiccup escaped out of Louis’ mouth, “Lou, I don’t get why you’re upset, this is great-” he began but it finally clicked.

New York’s Academy of the Dramatic Arts

New York’s Academy

New York.

_New York._

_Oh._

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Harry demanded, eye prickling and eyebrows cinching together even more than before. Surely Louis would have told him he applied, that’s what Soul Mates do, right? They tell each other about shit like this, you don’t just dump it on them after you’ve been accepted.

Like.

 _“Hey man I forgot to tell you, I got accepted into some fancy acting school but the only problem is I gotta move to New York, later”_ No, you can’t just do that. Harry re-read the letter, and then he noticed the date on top. 23rd of July, 3 months ago. Louis had hidden this from him for 3 months, so that meant-

“You said yes, didn’t you?” Harry whispered, biting his lip to stop himself from crying because no, he needed to be strong, if not for Louis, but for himself.

Louis nodded slowly, not daring to look up at Harry, too afraid that he would we mad, no, furious, cheeks red from the anger seeping out of him, ready to explode with bitter words that stung and left him hurting for days. Or worse, he could be crying, which he could _so_ not deal with.

Harry opted for both; the bastard.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” He yelled, slamming his fist on the table, which was so out of character of him, and all Louis could do was let his jaw hang open in shock.

“I-I didn’t know how to!” he cried, running both hands through his usually well-kept hair that had been left in its post-sleep state.

“Bullshit!” Harry screamed, voice cracking and oh god, here come the water works. All his love, hopes and dreams rolled down his cheek in the form of tears as he continued to yell as Louis continued to shrink in his chair, looking more and more vulnerable by the second.

He finally stopped yelling, and 5 little words escaped from his perfect pink lips that effectively crushed the rest of Louis’ heart as easily as if it had been a piece of brittle bark.

“I can’t do this anymore”

His bottom lip quivered as he said it and his eyes were vomiting up fucking tidal waves of tears and he was having trouble breathing because this _hurt so bad._

Like.

You know that feeling you get when you’re told absolutely gut wrenching news, and your mood just drops instantly. You start shaking, crying and you’re having difficulty breathing because it’s like your being suffocated and the only way to save yourself is to run away, so you do. And the strangling feeling, the darkness, the suffocation follows you, gaining on you. Its faster, stronger and craftier than you. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it and pounces and you cant do anything but succumb to the numb feeling, the almost dead sensation where just nothing matters. You can try and escape it but it always catches up.

Always

Well that’s exactly how both Louis and Harry felt. And Harry couldn’t deal with it, he ran. Out of the kitchen, out of the house, past his car and all the way back home. There were tears flying everywhere and he probably looked like an idiot but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to curl up in bed and _cry._

Cry because his boyfriend, if they were even together anymore, was moving to fucking New York, cry because he didn’t tell him until 3 months later, cry because he would probably never see him again.

That was the first time in months that Harry had felt the itch to slice his skin and feel the warm blood seep out of his veins and trickle down his skin.

The darkness was creeping up on him again but this time he just let it take him, he didn’t put up any form of fighting as the cold metal penetrated his skin, nor when the dull throbbing ache could be felt for hours afterwards. Nothing mattered anymore.

~*~

It had been a week and Louis still hadn’t called and Harry still hadn’t moved from his bed and Louis still hadn’t apologized and Harry was really beginning to think their relationship was over and it was killing him not knowing so he called Liam, what else was he supposed to do.

“You should really talk to Louis” Liam answered the call with, knowing exactly what this conversation was going to be about, which was weird because Harry was about as easy to read as a Chinese dictionary, but somehow Liam just _got him._

“I think he wants it to be over”

“I don’t think he does”

“Why hasn’t he called then?”

“He’s waiting for you to call him, he scared you’ll break up with him”

“Were not even together we haven’t talked for a week, oh God, it hurts saying those words out loud, Li” Harry frowned, eyes prickling with the sensation that had become far too familiar for his liking, after this past week of pure _hell._

“He’s leaving tomorrow” Liam blurted out because, _fuck,_ Harry needed to know the truth and he wasn’t going to hear it from Louis and he couldn’t let Louis leave without giving them a chance to fix things. What friend would do that to their mates?

“He- He’s what!?”

“Leaving…” Liam paused, choosing his words as carefully as a man walking across a mine field. “He didn’t think you’d care”

Harry let out a half exasperated moan, half scream and yelled back at Liam, not caring if he was potentially bursting his ear drums.

“DIDN’T THINK ID CARE?! IVE BEEN IN LOVE WITH HIM FOR 3 YEARS LIAM, FUCKING HELL WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?” Liam didn’t answer, it was a rhetorical answer, they both knew that and with that Harry slammed the phone down and the back of it, along with the batteries went flying across the room but he was already out the door before he could notice.

Harry pounded on Louis’ door, not caring that his family was home or that his sisters were playing outside, too caught up in their imagination to see the heart break in Harry’s eyes. It swung open after a few knocks to reveal Lottie, and Harry pushed past her and sprinted up to Louis’ room, yelling out a quick apology to the bewildered younger girl as he wrenched open the door to Louis’ bedroom.

“I can’t believe you.”

Louis’ head flicked up to him like a deer caught in headlights and his eyes opened comically wide but before he got a chance to speak Harry kept talking.

“I mean, you haven’t talked to me for a week, you haven’t texted me, you haven’t called me, you haven’t even tried to stay in contact with me, for Gods sake, Louis, are we even together anymore? Look, I get that this is what you wanted, this scholarship thing but the least you could have done is tell me? Am I that worthless to you that you don’t even feel the need to tell me that you’re fucking moving out of the country to somewhere where I can’t reach you? Did you know that this would probably cause the ending of us, was that your plan? To break my heart so badly that I couldn’t do it anymore so I broke up with you? Because if it was, it worked. It worked so fucking well, Goodbye, Louis”

And he was crying as he was walking back down the stairs, blindly groping for the door and somehow he made it home without crashing head on to the incoming traffic and he returned to his bed, as if there was a magnetic force drawing him towards it.

~*~

“This is it, I guess” Louis said, turning to face the small band of people who had accompanied him to the airport to bid him goodbye. His mum, his sisters, Niall, Liam, Zayn and even Danielle and Brooke,

(Zayn had indeed ended up asking her out and Louis had never seen him look at someone with such adoration and _love_ other than himself, of course)

There was only one person missing and the absence of his cheeky smile and soft curls made the whole thing seem that tiny bit more real.

He was leaving, to go to New York, without Harry. He and Harry had broken up, he would probably never see him again. He wasn’t going to see his family for a long time either, or his friends.

If this was growing up he wanted out, he wanted to crawl back into a diaper and roll around on the floor demanding to be fed, bathed and loved.

“Call me the second you land, promise?” Jo ordered, kissing him on the cheek and he just nodded, too overwhelmed for words.

“Have a good life, mate” Liam smiled warmly, from anyone else those words would have sounded bitter but from Liam, nothing had felt more sincere.

“If you see any hot chicks, tell me” Niall teased and Louis turned to Zayn and he could feel a lump forming in his throat as he choked back tears.

“I’m going to miss you so fucking much” Zayn whispered, pulling his best friend in for a bone crushing hug as their bodies mashed together and Louis just lost it. He started to cry and all Zayn could do was rub circles on his back and coo in his ear. When he finally pulled away he took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes and chewed nervously on his lip.

“Your flights leaving soon, you better go” Zayn murmured, staring at the ground while neither of them made any attempt at moving until Louis’ mum grabbed his hand and pulled him to the terminal and just like he was a pet, she told him to “stay”

“Boarding pass?” A brunette flight attendant had asked him, holding out her hand expectantly and impatiently. Louis sighed and fished into his bag for the pass and handed it to her. She nodded in acceptance and he was granted access through, he looked back for one last time, praying desperately that Harry would have magically appeared to save him from leaving, running up the length of the airport, breathless and teary eyed as he begged him not to go, telling him he loves him and that they’ll be together forever.

_Nothing._

He sighed, bowed his head and walked straight down the passageway to the plane, simultaneously trying his best to erase all memories of Harry Styles because he was starting new, he didn’t need him in the place he was headed, he could find someone else. Fuck the whole ‘one true love’ thing, there’s probably billions of people you could fall in love with out there, you’re just so intent on finding the qualities of that ‘one’ person that you’re so wrapped up in that you’re oblivious to everyone else around you.

So as he sat himself crookedly in the cramped airplane chair he thought to himself that year he was gonna be ok, with or without Harry, he was going to be just fine.

 

_The End._

 

~*~


End file.
